The Favour
by EliMorgana
Summary: Severus Snape has friends in high places, and Draco Malfoy is eager to take advantage to regain what he has lost in the War. Ginny Weasley has just divorced Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and is trying to forge a new identity for herself from the ashes. She needs someone to see her - really see her - for someone other than "Harry Potter's Wife". DM/GW EWE
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Favour**

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy continues to suffer the consequences of his father's actions during the war. The Malfoy name has been shattered and trampled, and he has next to nothing left – nothing except Severus Snape's promise to help. Severus has friends in high places, and Draco is eager to take advantage. Ginny Weasley has just divorced Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, and is trying to forge a new identity for herself from the ashes of her marriage. She needs just _one_ person to recognise her as the person outside of her childhood sweetheart, and luckily, that one person is just through the Floo. DM/GW EWE

 **Rating:** M for language and some sexual references/situations.

 **Pairings:** DM/GW with a side of HG/SS

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work. I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work.

* * *

 **The Favour**

 **1**

* * *

"I must admit, Severus, I did not expect to see you back here."

Draco paused on the stairs, one hand on the icy stone wall, as he listened to his father – _ha_. Lucius's voice drifted across to him easily through the corridor, a little worse for wear, but still holding all of the imperiousness it commanded before his imprisonment. The cool blue light from the Auror's patronus shifted as it turned a head to wait for him to move, but Draco couldn't. He found himself, as he usually did, facing a moral dilemma. His father deserved his respect, his love, his visitation, yes. But did Lucius Malfoy?

It had been this question that had sent him hurtling back down the stairs and out onto the rocks of the island every single time he had approached in the past year, never making it further than this very spot. And even _that_ came after four years of retching and crying whenever his father's name was mentioned. The Aurors had begun to shake their heads and roll their eyes when he would arrive for visitation, and at this point, even the thrice-damned patronus seemed to pity him. One hand came up to scrub over his face, pull through his hair. _Gods above._ And now, not only would he have to deal with his father – the man who had stolen his childhood and twisted his person to serve his nutter of a master – but he would also have to deal with Severus Snape. Draco, overwhelmed, pressed his forehead to the damp bricks, praying for help. Praying for the strength that he had been denied for so many years. Strands of matted white hair tickled his lips, his eyes, his cheeks; grounding him.

The snarky, smooth tones of his old Potion's Professor soothed his riotous soul, despite his conscience demanding that he had no right to any such calm.

"Thirty years of kinship is not so easily… abandoned."

 _Twenty three years of fatherhood, however._

Draco groaned lightly, nipping the skin of his neck to chase away his own traitorous thoughts. It would do no good for him to dwell on old grudges now. Not if his job was to be done, not if he wanted his mother to smile again. The patronus snickered, pawing at the dusty ground with one hoof as he waited.

Was it just Draco, or did it look impatient?

Lucius chuckled, a breathy sound that was immediately followed by a cough that caused Draco's heart to hurt. He nipped himself again, trying to calm the attempt to free itself from his ribcage. Lucius was muttering something to Severus, who had snorted. _Snorted_. Draco rolled his eyes, for a moment irritation taking over his swarm of emotions and carrying him up the rest of the steps. The patronus harrumphed, shooting Draco a glare, and then continued down the corridor towards where 'High Security' prisoners were now held. How Lucius Malfoy could be classed as high security, it was anyone's guess, but then again he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were always at the top of the list – even if that list is titled "nefarious war criminals". Remembering his place, Draco quickened his pace to a saunter and painted on his patented Malfoy-sneer. If he were to finally face his father, he would do it with his head held high, holding all of the dignity expected of the Malfoy heir.

The shadows flickered and shifted as they turned a corner, and then Draco was treated to the sight of his godfather leaning casually against the bars holding in his real father. Severus was studying the heavens, his arms folded across his chest, a mask of casual indifference settled across his features. He barely looked any different than when Draco had seen him last, though he had replaced his teaching robes with a more casual set – still black, still billowing. Draco resisted the temptation to roll his eyes once more; it had been six years and the man still wore his cold heart as a shield.

Severus glanced down at the approach of the patronus, cocking an eyebrow as it opened its mouth to announce Draco's arrival. His eyes flicked back to the blonde wizard behind the horse, eyes widening slightly in surprise. A scrambling sound echoed, and Draco could finally see his father.

His hair was in only slightly worse shape than his son's, platinum waves tangling and tumbling over his shoulders and down the neck of his Azkaban clothes. His face was still set in a scornful twist, but it did not inflict the fear that it had years before – oh, no. He was too gaunt for that. His once-stormy grey eyes were carved further into his skull, the whites looking dull next to the purple bruises caused by years of insomnia and dementor-driven depression. His cane had been replaced by a wooden – well, it was no more than a stick, really. Seeing it in person had Draco faltering slightly, though he recovered quickly. He had known, of course, of his father's state. He even had his old cane, the disgusting head having been long-ago sold for spare galleons. But it was different, of course, to be here. To see the once great man ripped into nothing. It caused Draco no small amount of guilt to see his father, but he had a job to do.

His chin shoved into the air, he pulled together all of the airs and graces he had accumulated in his short life and glared down at his father.

"Father," he nodded, and then turned to his godfather. "Master Snape, I hope you are well."

Lucius scoffed from somewhere behind Draco, a sad sound in that it only reminded him of how lost his father truly was. Severus nodded in greeting, his face still blank. Draco regarded the man who had helped raise him for a moment more. He had gained weight, Draco noted. Not too much, but he looked healthy, with his sunken cheeks filled in slightly and a foreign spark in his eyes. Satisfied that he was in fine fettle, Draco faced his father. "I hope I am not interrupting," he drawled, eyeing the sad state of the man, "Only, I have some business to discuss with you."

Lucius flicked his eyes to Severus before pulling himself to his full height. "There was a time during which Azkaban was not considered an acceptable place to discuss business, Draco. I would much prefer if this could wait until we were in a more…" He ran a finger along a bar with disdain, " _proper_ setting."

A wave of rage flashed through his son, who couldn't resist hissing: "when one commits genocide, one should be grateful to have a setting _at all_."

Lucius waved his comment away indifferently. "Politics. Really Draco, you ought to learn to control that temper of yours."

"My apologies if I am a bit _volatile_ while I visit my father in _prison_." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he attempted to practice control. "You need to sign over the estate."

His demand met deaf ears as Lucius examined his nail beds. "Severus, please remind my son that it is quite gauche to discuss money in good company."

Severus did not move, his black eyes glancing between his oldest friend and his godson. Draco took confidence from this and simply raised an eyebrow, an accurate impression of the man he stood beside. After waiting a moment, he simply shrugged and turned to the Severus. "If my father will not do as I ask, I shall not return. Now, Master Snape, how have you been?"

"Alive, which is more than I could have expected." Severus burred, watching Lucius. "How is your mother?"

"In St. Mungo's. It has been a difficult transition for us all." Nodding, Severus allowed his mask to fall for a moment to show Draco his sympathy.

"That is disappointing. Narcissa was always kind to me." Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see his father's crestfallen expression, and couldn't resist the surge of anger that flowed over him. What right was it of his to care for Narcissa? _He_ was the reason she was there in the first place. Her _husband_ , the _love of her life_ , had dragged her before a madman and given away their only son as sacrifice. It was none of his business what his mother was like.

But then again, if it made him sign over the estate, then all the better.

Severus did not cease his talking to examine the old man's features for more than a moment. "And how are you, Draco?"

"I am well, though it is difficult to keep up with my expenses and Mother's treatment at the same time. I'm sure you heard that my father's accounts have been frozen these past years. I have had to grow from nothing." He sent a sneer to his father, who had taken to leaning against the wall and ignoring them once more.

Distractedly, Severus brushed his eyes across Draco's person. He looked worse than he ever had – not less pretty, of course, but more… rugged. That phrase was applied quite generously to his personage by a grouchy Pansy Parkinson, who had come across Draco in Diagon Alley not two months ago. She had taken one look at his thread-bare robes, overgrown hair and pale, tired eyes and had said: "blimey Draco, are you sure you're not a Weasley?"

Draco had not spoken to her since.

"If you would like to go the legal route, Draco, I have some… _friends_ who may be able to help. They aren't lawyers, per say, but they hold a fair bit of sway in the Ministry." Severus frowned as though it was painful for him to say the words. Draco's brain, however, had switched right on and was booting up. It took everything he had to not scream and laugh and cry all in that moment, but he couldn't resist a smile. Severus took this as an invitation to go on and nodded thoughtfully. "I am hosting a dinner on Friday which they will be attending. Are you amenable to that idea?"

Draco didn't even pause to remember his father in the cell, the fact that he was stood in a prison, the man he was with or even the fact that _Malfoy men do not hug_. He threw himself at Severus for in that moment he could see everything getting better. He could see himself moving back to the Manor, setting his mother up in her own home, paying off his debts, reclaiming his business interests… Salazar, it was all looking up in that moment. He didn't even think that it was strange when Severus wrapped his arms around him and chuckled softly, an awkward smile in his face. He was just _too happy_.

* * *

" _Ginevra Potter, as I live and breathe!_ Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here!"

Ginny grimaced, rubbing her temples in a desperate attempt to alleviate the blinding pain the screech had caused. "Yes, well." She glanced back at her group of friends as they gathered in the street, not yet noticing her absence. She had gone to the shop for peace, but far be it for her to be granted _any_ of her wishes. "It's back to Weasley now."

The portly woman frowned slightly, tipping her head to one side in the universal sign of pity. It was all she could do to not run back into the street and scream. It had been a week. One _measly_ week since the papers had been signed. It was bad enough that she had to cart around the evidence of her failed marriage in a hand-me-down pram, but did she _really_ have to deal with this _every time_ she left the house? She just wanted a contraceptive potion. That was all. She didn't particularly feel up to another debate on just _who_ was to blame for the split, or just _who_ was more prepared to raise a child. She just wanted some peace. There was only one of two ways that this could go, and neither was preferable.

"Oh, you poor girl!" Yep, that was one. Why every single person in Wizarding Britain thought they had the right to an opinion on her marital status, Ginny just did not know. "Are you alright?"

Ginny followed her script well – _yes, I'm fine; yes, Harry is happy; yes, this is our child. His name? Oh, well, James, of course! No, I'm not quitting the team; yes, we are still friends – brothers, practically; no, I'm not seeing anyone; no, I'm not a lesbian now_ – and to her credit, did not punch anyone. The woman smiled and nodded and finally handed over the potion Ginny needed, which she stashed at the bottom of her pram. With one final comment – _well, just in case, can't have another baby out of wedlock can I! –_ she pushed her way out of the door and across the street to where Hermione and Ron stood, bickering. Ginny coughed to announce her present, and both blushed to be caught, springing apart. "You're both _married,_ shame on you!" She chastised gently, leaning down to check on her son.

 _"_ She insulted Quidditch – again!" Ron declared, narrowing his eyes at the bushy haired witch by his side.

"And? Sarah _loves_ Quidditch." Ginny stepped between them, a hand on each of their chests to keep them apart. "Don't. You're lucky your spouses aren't here to witness this. You'd give them both a complex, what with this blatant foreplay." She glared at each of them in turn. "Hermione, don't be such a harpy. Ron, don't be such a prat. Are we done here? Where's George?"

Hermione sighed, her hands on her hips as she dipped her head. "Sorry, Gin. Old habits, eh?"

Ginny gave her a curt nod as Ron answered her other question. "He and Ange took Teddy to the WWW, wants to stock him up before he goes off to 'Dromeda's for the weekend. You know how she hates his 'little gifts'." They all summoned a groan, thinking of Andromeda emerging from the Grimmauld Place fireplace two months back with Teddy held out at arms length, covered in soot and dirt with bright green skin. She had been screaming bloody murder for George, who had instantly apparated home. It had taken a week to track him down for the counter-jinx to be administered, and since then Andromeda had banned George from watching Teddy unsupervised. She still looked a touch ill.

 _"_ Are you guys still coming over tomorrow?" Hermione asked as they meandered through the crowds towards the brightly coloured shop. Ginny wrinkled her nose at the idea, earning her a slap from her best friend. "Don't look at me like that, Ginny Weasley. You know you love our little get-togethers."

"That's just it, though. It's the first one since… well, since I got my name back, shall we say. Don't you think it will be awkward?"

"Yes," Hermione allowed, "but not for long. You two need to learn how to be around each other as friends, just like Ron and I did. And –" she closed Ginny's mouth with a finger under her chin, seeing that she was about to protest, "- I'm not losing either of my friends over a piece of paper and a parasite."

Ginny snorted, glancing down at her son. "Gee, thanks, 'Mione. Way to be supportive."

The older witch tossed her hair and shot a scathing look over her shoulders. "You have been separated for six months. That's six months longer than I kept up sympathy for Lavender after her divorce, and she had two parasites. _Two!_ "

"Three, if you include Zabini." Ron pointed out with a smirk.

"Exactly. Plus, I'm not choosing between you two. Either you both come or no-one does. It will just be me, Ron, Luna and the Housewives."

 _"_ I don't think Theo would appreciate you calling him a woman."

"Well then maybe he should get off of his lazy arse and stop whining." Hermione jabbed at Ron's ribs, smiling when he grunted in pain. "Either way, it's your loss. We're in good company with or without you."

"I wasn't aware that your husband counted as good company," Ginny drawled, pulling her pram around as a shield when Hermione gasped in anger. Laughing, the three of them entered the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to collect Teddy, who would be found twenty minutes later on the top floor, smothered in _Ten Second Pimple Vanisher_ and laughing wildly as he set off their collection of Whiz Poppers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: The Favour**

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy continues to suffer the consequences of his father's actions during the war. The Malfoy name has been shattered and trampled, and he has next to nothing left – nothing except Severus Snape's promise to help. Severus has friends in high places, and Draco is eager to take advantage. Ginny Weasley has just divorced Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, and is trying to forge a new identity for herself from the ashes of her marriage. She needs just _one_ person to recognise her as the person outside of her childhood sweetheart, and luckily, that one person is just through the Floo. DM/GW EWE

 **Rating:** M for language and some sexual references/situations.

 **Pairings:** DM/GW with a side of HG/SS

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work. I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work.

* * *

 **The Favour**

 **2**

* * *

The first thing Draco saw when he stumbled out of the floo was a pair of brown leather boots. Women's boots.

 _Muggle_ boots.

Temporarily concerned, he moved to get back into the fireplace for fear that he'd arrived in the wrong place. What had he said? Snape Residence? He was sure that had been it.

But why would Snape have _women's_ boots? _Muggle boots?_

The second thing Draco saw was the copy of _Potions Quarterly_ unfurled on the sofa, as if it had been abandoned in a hurry. That made him pause. He glanced around for a moment, taking in the little room – it was nothing like the Manor, of course, but it was bigger than his own, and it gave off an aura of coziness and something else he couldn't put his finger on. The room was decorated in subdued, earthy tones, and it was made smaller by the heaving bookcases on the walls beside the fireplace. Draco was slightly jealous of this – he didn't have a fireplace in his flat, the stupid Muggle landlord thought it was a 'fire hazard'. He had scoffed at this, it was a _fireplace_ for the love of all things magical!

A quick skim also showed him the robes draped over a chair in the corner, a discarded tumbler of amber liquid on a side-table, and a shelf dedicated to an assortment of empty vials and jars. Very Snape, in all. There was a rug of Slytherin green underneath his feet and a desk scattered with parchment and quills against the wall beneath a window. It reminded Draco very much of Snape's old place in Spinner's End, a place he had only visited once or twice, and only then in an emergency.

But there were other things about the place that were… odd. There was a small black box on a stand by the door, which he only recognized as a – wait, what was the word... Telly? – through his limited encounters with muggle houses. A jumper, much too small and much too orange to belong to Severus, was hung from a hook on the back of one of the doors; and there was a smattering of personal touches – flowers and the like – that Draco didn't imagine Snape had any time for. A radio played a gentle, lilting tune that Draco was unfamiliar with, but as he stood and allowed it to soak through, he found it to be quite charming.

SQUAWK!

Draco yelped, jumping onto the nearest chair as something behind him started screeching. Suddenly very confused, Draco hunted for the source of the noise, but he couldn't see anything and every time he went to get down the damned thing would start screaming again! Though still a tad concerned that he was in the wrong place, Draco summoned all of his courage and cried out for help – "Snape!"

There was a thundering from behind him and the door smacked open. "Godric! That blasted man!" A woman shouted angrily, waving her hand at the mantelpiece. Draco watched, his hands pressed protectively to his ears, as a little clock flew into the wall and smashed to pieces. "I'm so sorry about that, he's always leaving it on and it drives me _right_ 'round the bend." The woman stepped towards the cowering wizard hesitantly, his arms still on his ears, still glaring at the remains of her alarm. "Draco, you can let your arms down now." She huffed a deep sigh when he couldn't hear her, and rolled her eyes. He looked entirely stunned, his face even paler than normal, and he didn't even flinch when she waved a hand in his face. Grunting in annoyance, she wound back her hand and let it fly across his shoulder, the crack of the contact bursting in his ears.

"Bloody Hell, witch, what are you doing?!" He demanded, finally unfreezing and falling back onto the floor. "Gods be damned, I come to this house and all I get is assaulted!" Cussing her out under his breath, he pulled himself to his feet and pushed his hair out of his eyes, for the first time taking in the woman who stood in front of him, hair ruffled, arms crossed, petulant expression on her face.

"Are you _quite_ finished?" She demanded, tapping her bare toes in a mockery of impatience that would have caught him if not for the playful gleam in her eye.

"Granger?" Draco asked, and then his word caught up with him and in a flash of self-preservation-induced hysteria he shielded himself with his arms, the hand in front of his face pointing his wand at her. "You _hit_ me!"

Granger rolled her eyes at his dramatics, walking around to flop casually on the armchair opposite him. "Why, hello, Hermione, it really has been a long time, how have you been, what a pleasure to see you again," she muttered to herself, biting off the words. Draco held his defensive position, but strained to hear what she was saying all the same. She had continued on to grumble about Snape now, and only this was discernible due to her very obvious statement of 'please, Hermione, please greet my absolute _prat_ of a godson? Yes, I _know_ he's a pretty boy arse and yes, I _know_ that you have much better things to be doing with your time but I have some _hoity toity_ potions do to go to with my _hoity toity girlfriend_ '. She spared him a glance and motioned pointedly to the couch. "Well?"

"Well, what?" He sniffled a little in disdain, his brain coming back to him.

"Well, will you _please_ sit the Hell _down._ " When he continued to stare at her blankly she threw her hands up in frustration. With another smooth motion she wandlessly pulled the sofa forward, it neatly pushing his legs out from underneath him until he was sprawled across the cushions in a most unbecoming fashion. "Godric, you're a handful, aren't you?"

"Only to women who make it a habit to _beat me_." Draco snarled, but against his better judgement he allowed himself to sink further into the cushions, his aching muscles glad for the rest. He had spent the morning running around after other people's animals and it was a welcome relief to find himself somewhere comfortable. Granger watched him closely over the top of the journal she had reclaimed, all the better to feign being casual in this very strange situation, he supposed. After all, wasn't it just _so_ typically Granger to hide herself behind a book?

He would have thought that he was in the wrong place once more, except that she had obviously been expecting him. She called him _Draco_ , after all. It may have been seven years or so, but he didn't think that if she appeared randomly in his living room he would have the grace to not hex her.

She must have heard his thoughts, as she eyed his wand-hand warily. "Keep it in your pants, Draco. Be assured that if you hex me in my own home, I will curse you into eternity." And then she tilted her head to one side to appraise him. "Are you quite well? You look peaky. Would you like some tea?"

"Why are you here?" He ground out, trying very hard not to be offended at her use of the phrase 'peaky'. He was pale, okay? It was _genetic_.

"Bell!" She cried, and a second later a house-elf – in a full outfit of tiny robes, no less – appeared and scraped its nose across the floor in a bow.

Draco eyed it nervously. Knowing what he knew about Spew – sorry, S.P.E.W – and Granger's reputation within his department at the Ministry (he worked for the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, and while he had only worked there for a month, he knew that Stacey, the Office Manager, had specific instructions to deny entry to any and all crusading bushy-haired muggleborns), he was naturally very cautious of any elf that would choose to work for _Hermione Granger_ , of all people. The little elf shuffled around for a second and then, in a move that both shocked and amused Draco, he cocked a little bald brow impatiently. "Yes, Mistress?" He asked, his tone entirely indifferent.

Granger smiled just the same and ordered a pot of tea for them both. Draco was still staring at the spot the elf had once stood when the tea arrived, still thoroughly bemused.

"He wants to be here, at least," Granger told him, putting aside her journal to lean across and serve tea. It took only a second for her to pour him a cup and pass it across with the sugar bowl, but by that time Draco had come to his senses.

"You're trying to distract me," He accused, refusing to take his tea from her. She shot him an entirely too innocent smile as she added two spoons of brown sugar, stirred it and pushed it back towards him. "Why are you here?" He tried again.

"Well, why are you here?" She asked, grinning.

"For dinner with Snape," Draco glanced at the door.

"Well, I suppose that must be why I'm here, too."

Draco snorted a little, shaking his head. "Hermione Granger, supping with Draco Malfoy, at Severus Snape's house. How unexpected."

Granger just shot him another of her enigmatic smiles, the ones that were starting to make him feel a little nervous. Luckily, before he had a chance to ask exactly _why_ she was smiling so much, there was a - _crack-_ just outside of the door, and soon Severus Snape was gliding into the room with all the elegance of a Malfoy, if a little harried. He shook his hair out around his collar as he swept his robes over one arm, making a strange rumbling noise as he moved. Draco regarded him once more, marvelling at how well he truly looked these days. "Bell!" He grunted, hanging his outer clothes on the hook, before turning and actually realizing they were there. "Oh." He grunted again, his eyes sweeping across the tableau. Draco straightened himself in his seat, looking every inch the uncomfortable young man he was, and Granger was relaxed opposite him with one ankle crossed cross the other, smirking widely, practically radiating satisfaction.

"Snape, you really need to get better staff," Draco drawled, sending a venomous look at Granger, who only buried her head nonchalantly back in her book, looking the picture of virtue.

"Not a warm reception, then?" Snape asked. "My apologies. I was caught up in a business lunch."

"By which he means he was caught up in Sybill," Granger droned, her face twisting at the mention of the woman.

"I thought you hated Trelawney," Draco mused, finally picking up his tea, feeling a tingle in his fingers as he broke the stasis spell.

Snape folded himself into another armchair, pushing an open book off of the arm and onto a table. It was a relatively sweet scene, Severus Snape in his natural environment, surrounded by books and vials and the flickering of a fire. Draco just didn't particularly understand why Granger was here. He had known they were friends, of course, they appeared in the _Prophet_ together more than once, mostly when Granger was releasing a book and Snape would be there, in the background, quietly glaring at anyone who dared interrupt his silence. But he didn't expect Snape to be the kind of person to let someone putter around his house while he was away.

"I have little time for hate." Snape sniffed, straightening his sleeves carefully. "She has proven quite useful to me recently."

"Yes, _useful_." Granger waggled her eyebrows, but neither of the men bit. She turned her page and huffed a bit, but settled in. Her silence didn't last long, as when Draco opened his mouth to speak Granger threw her sickle in again. "Truly, Severus, must you indulge her lunacy?"

"Her _lunacy_ led to the downfall of the Dark Lord."

"Her _lunacy_ led to no less than five destroyed lives." She prodded drily. When both men glanced at her askance, she brought up a hand, all fingers spread out, and began to count down. "James Potter, Harry Potter, Lily Evans -" Draco noted the lack of reaction on Severus' part and filed it away for later investigation, "- Sirius Black _and_ one Severus Snape, who I happen to know was _royally buggered_ because the stupid cow couldn't keep her mouth shut." Her expression dared both men to argue with her, and Draco threw his hands up in mock surrender before scooping up a digestive and dunking it in his tea. When Snape just glanced at her once more, she continued to launch into a tirade about divination and science and 'real magic' which Draco thought was just bollocks and threw his arms over his eyes in defeat.

Only when she finally cut off in the middle of a sentence did Draco open his eyes, only to yelp in surprise at the sight of his godfather well and truly _snogging_ Hermione Insufferable-Know-It-All Granger.

"Gods above!" He cried, causing the two to separate. Granger had _the biggest_ shit-eating grin on her face. Snape flicked his eyes to Draco and he could read a silent apology there, but it didn't particularly help considering that he also held a self-satisfied smirk. "You could have warned me!" Draco spluttered, motioning wildly at Snape's paramour.

"I hardly see how my private life is any of your business," Snape drawled, adjusting his robes as he sat down once more. "I don't ask for all of the revolting details of your life."

"A warning in an owl would have been nice. _Dear Draco, I look forward to seeing you on Friday, please be aware that my house contains rampaging Gryffindors and screeching clocks and if you encounter either of the two you should know that they are quite violent. Regards, Severus."_ Scowling further when Granger giggled, Draco narrowed his eyes at Snape. "Your little witch smacked me one when I came out of the floo."

"He was in shock," She waved a biscuit dismissively. "Also, there was an accident with your alarm."

"Right, an _accident_." His eyes flicked to the empty place on the mantel and he let loose a tiny, affectionate smirk. "Gods forbid anything stand in your way when you're working."

Their gazes met in a private smile, and Granger twisted to prop her legs over the arm of the chair, her attention turning to contemplate Draco. "Severus tells me that you visited your father," she treated him to a sweet, lopsided smile that made Draco want to crawl up inside himself and die – no Malfoy should be subject to a Gryffindor's pity. "I do hope Lucius was kind."

"My father was everything I expected him to be. I have no doubt he will continue to be so."

Granger flipped a page in her book again. "Always contrary, that man." She jerked her chin towards Snape. "Severus tells me that he will be coming to trial in a month or so. I'll speak for him, obviously, as I find him quite changed. But then I've always been a sucker for a man in crisis," and then she shared another of her vomit-inducing grins with Snape. Even just sitting here was beginning to be an exercise in controlling nausea for Draco, who was becoming increasingly more perplexed by the minute.

"So, what is this dinner about, then?" Draco asked, deliberately sidestepping all talk of his father and the mere existence of Hermione Granger to meet Snape's eyes. "Business related?"

Severus regarded him for a moment over the top of his glasses – new glasses, Draco noticed, for he had never worn them in his presence before. "More… family, I suppose." He swept a glance over Draco's attire with a practised sneer. "You'll need to change."

"You can use our guest bathroom, if you'd like. I could transfigure something for you. You'll want to look your best, no doubt, when the others arrive in –" She cast a _tempus_ with a triumphant smile as Snape rolled his eyes, looking to the now empty space on the mantel, "two hours."

"I don't need your _pity_ , Granger."

"Snape," She corrected him curtly, eyes dancing. "Madam Hermione Jean Snape, at your service." She gestured towards the door. "It's the second room on the left at the top of the stairs. I'm sure you'll find something appropriate."

When Draco finally emerged from the shower, dressed in a newly pressed pair of slacks and a button down navy shirt courtesy of Hermione - "trust me Draco, you'll want to play to the crowd on this one" – he found his godfather waiting, perched uncomfortably on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He had changed for the meal, his hair tied at the nape of his neck, eyes alternating between the _Prophet_ in his lap and the doorway that Draco resided in. Draco wasn't entirely certain what being a part of the Granger-Snape household would entail, but he could only assume there was _a lot_ of reading involved.

Snape perused him for a moment and gave him a stiff nod. "You'll do." Folding the newspaper under one arm, he fixed Draco with a withering glare. "My wife hosts this dinner regularly, and it brings her great joy to do so. I would be remiss in my spousal duties if I did not inform you of certain expectations."

Draco rolled his eyes skyward and crossed his arms. "Look, I don't eat children, Snape. It has been a long time since Hogwarts, I think I can get over one petty school feud."

A smirk graced Snape's face once more, and he rose from his seat, both men choosing to ignore the cracking of his knees that showed he was not quite the wizard he once had been. "Good. See that you do. I didn't leave Hogwarts only to have it follow me home." Casting a _tempus,_ Snape sighed – a barely there, delicate sound released through his nose. "We had best go and join the festivities."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: The Favour**

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy continues to suffer the consequences of his father's actions during the war. The Malfoy name has been shattered and trampled, and he has next to nothing left – nothing except Severus Snape's promise to help. Severus has friends in high places, and Draco is eager to take advantage. Ginny Weasley has just divorced Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, and is trying to forge a new identity for herself from the ashes of her marriage. She needs just _one_ person to recognise her as the person outside of her childhood sweetheart, and luckily, that one person is just through the Floo. DM/GW EWE

 **Rating:** M for language and some sexual references/situations.

 **Pairings:** DM/GW with a side of HG/SS

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work. I do not own the works herein, all characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, and all characters, storylines, situations, plots and the like do not belong to me. I make no money from this work.

* * *

 **The Favour**

 **3**

* * *

Laughter and music spilled onto the streets of Barley Acres, a new, very small Wizarding Village not much further north than Leeds. A warm halo of yellow light spread around the house from the open windows, causing the neighbours to grumble and grouse as they slammed shut their own and threw up silencing charms against the party. Ginny got more than one irritated glare as she Apparated just outside the wards and hurried forward. It was six o'clock on a Friday night, James was at the Den with Andromeda and Teddy, and Ginny was determined to get drunk with her friends. There was no sign of a mess of black hair through the window and it only steadied her resolve to simply _enjoy_ herself, taking one deep breath before she hammered on the door.

"Just you wait one damn moment, Ronald, I will _kill-_ Ginny, you made it!" Hermione grinned widely as she threw the door open, gathering her best friend in her arms. To Ginny's delight, she whipped off her cloak and pushed a wine glass into her hand in the same movement. "Right, well, we're just waiting on Harry now, everyone's in the living room. Severus is hiding away upstairs, no surprise there, though I'm sure he'll be glad you're here so that he doesn't have to deal with these dunder- _Theodore Nott you will put that back right now!"_ Hermione screeched in a good impression of Ginny's own mother as the quiet man picked up a beaker from the bookshelf that seemed to hold... eyeballs? Ginny shuddered at the thought. She had long since learned never to touch whatever Severus had left lying around.

Stepping into the room fully, Ginny considered her surroundings. The room had been enlarged in order to hold the lot of them and several transfigured love seats dotted the room. Her friends and family had made it their mission to overtake every inch of the available space, little as it was. George was in one corner, gesticulating wildly at Ronald who simply seemed to be avoiding Hermione. No trace was left of whatever had sent the witch on a rampage, but her brother knew better than most of Hermione's ability to hold a grudge, and tended to err on the side of caution when she started shouting. Close by, Angelina relaxed across the arm of a chair, nursing a tumbler of firewhiskey as Luna and Sarah argued about... something or the other on the antique rug. It couldn't really be called an argument either, Ginny supposed, more Sarah getting frustrated beyond all reach as Luna sweetly informed her that her bedroom had an infestation of Dinglesplots, hence why her sex life was going down the drain. Sarah looked fit to burst, face aflame as she informed Luna of her husband's virility – something Ginny had never needed to hear about. Choking down the urge to throw up, Ginny greeted them loudly.

"Ginny, you came!" Angelina grinned, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Honestly, I'm so glad." She pulled her close and growled in her ear; "Hermione will not let me leave the room. I think she has finally lost it."

"Then you owe me a galleon," Ginny grinned, shoving the older girl in the shoulder fondly and pushing the cloying feeling of apprehension back down. "It's so... coupley here." And it was true. Three years of these dinners and it had only just hit her that everyone was paired up; Ange and George, Ron and Sarah, Hermione and Severus, Luna and Theo (because even Severus deserved a Slytherin pal). Even were Harry to show, they would be pushed together eventually, and that would be... awkward.

Not that they didn't get along, because they did. As she told the woman in the shop, they were family. Too much like family for her tastes. Their marriage had begun to feel like she had married her sibling, and that was the final straw for her. The day she realised that she hugged Harry with the same warmth as she held for Bill (undeniably her favourite brother, but still her _brother_ ) was the day they called the solicitor.

The light chiming of Hermione tapping her glass with a knife filled the room and everyone fell silent. Behind her, the door opened and Severus slipped through, cutting off Ron's greeting with a hand and an apprehensive scowl. "I've brought a guest," He informed everyone, his low, silky voice, brooking no argument. "And before I throw him to the..." everyone flinched back from his sneer as he scanned the room – some reactions were too conditioned to overcome, "…lions, as it were, I would like to ask you to respect my family home." He slowly made eye contact with the assembled, slipping easily into his 'intimidating teacher' role. "By which I mean that if you have a problem with our choice to bring him into the fold, you can simply-"

"Shove it up our arses, yeah, Sev?" George called out, causing Ron to snort loudly into his beer.

Severus inclined his head towards George, lips curling at the edges. "Quite."

"Great, message received," George grinned, oblivious to the suspicions rising in everyone else's minds. Ginny herself was a little concerned – considering the people Severus associated with, probably the least bad situation would still cause Ron's head to explode. Especially with Hermione looking that nervous... "Bring it on!"

Severus treated them all to one more lingering glare before he turned and opened the door. "Come, Draco," he murmured, reaching one black clad arm into the hall. Ginny froze, and the atmosphere seemed to get a few degrees cooler and then a lanky blonde was slouching through the door and looking around.

"Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley…" Draco Malfoy greeted them with nods, amusement glinting in his eyes as he scanned the crowd. His eyes landed on Ginny, who pulled herself up, ignorant of how her lips had curled back in a snarl. "…Weasley," he drawled finally, after a moment of appraisal. "Good to see you," he choked out as though they wouldn't be able to spot that lie two miles away. George barked out a laugh, shattering the tension in the room, and Severus smacked the back of Draco's head.

"Malfoy!" Theo called from the back of the room, gaily waving a glass of wine in the blonde's direction. "Where have you been hiding?" His handsome face crumpled up into a pout, the surrounding people watching in amusement. The man was ridiculously entertaining when drunk, and he was delightfully lightweighted. "You – you -" Elbows went flying as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd and jabbed a finger into Draco's chest. " _You_ were supposed to be my best man, but you disappeared!" The man turned to the rest of the room, eyes wide to include them all in his tale. " _This knob, right here,_ " he punctuated this by waving a limp wrist at the aristocrat, who was looking a mixture of amused and apprehensive, "abandoned me on my wedding day! Did you know, mate, that because of _you-_ " another prod to the sternum "-I had to make do with Blaise. _Blaise,_ Draco! We had a traditional ceremony, and all I heard throughout was him making lewd comments about my _wife's assets!"_ His head whipped around in a panic, searching for something, and then he grabbed Luna by the arm and dragged her to his chest to present her to Draco. "Have you met my wife, Drakey-poo? This is my Luna, my _moon_. Isn't she beautiful?"

Seemingly hypnotised by a strand of Luna's pale blonde hair, he barely registered Draco's mumbled agreement and how he edged away.

"You can do better than that," Severus scolded his godson in a drawl far superior to the Malfoy scion's own, before moving to his wife's side. In his usual manner, he greeted her with subtle affection; three fingers grazed her forearm, then her cheek, as he looked into her eyes. Hermione, in return, turned her face into his shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to his clavicle, as his fingers danced lightly over her hair. It was a quick, barely noticeable exchange unless you were watching the couple, but Ginny often found herself enjoying their unlikely relationship. It was impossible not to be drawn in by how in love they were, even having been together for four years - married for two of those years - they still moved like the other exuded some sort of gravitational pull they could not resist. In his unguarded moments, rare though they were, you could see Severus watching his wife with something akin to awe, disbelief, like she might disappear if he took his eyes away and he was terrified of that. Hermione, in turn, made no bones about her love for Severus, it shone from her face whenever they shared a room, and Ginny doubted that anything could separate the two should they not like it to.

Ginny craved that sort of relationship, and looking back wondered how she had ever thought that the light-hearted, casually easy relationship she had shared with Harry compared. This feeling had been her driving force since she was a child, though, dreaming of a whirlwind romance with the Great Harry Potter – it had always been Harry Potter, then. He was the only person that remotely intrigued her to the level of fanatic obsession. Most other male celebrities simply reminded her of one or more of her brothers – famous curse breakers, dragon tamers, quidditch players… all were off-limits by virtue of being similar to her abundance of male family members. Harry Potter, though… he was a mystery, a blank slate on which she could ascribe any and all attractive traits. Ginny never realised what a mistake this had been until she was twenty, marrying a man she barely knew.

In the aftermath of this disaster, Ginny still burned for something all-encompassing, though as time passed she was all too aware of how unlikely it was that she would experience it. Still, she could not find it in herself to be bitter about her best friend's happy marriage, not after everything the two had been through to get to this point. Tearing her eyes away from the scene, Ginny realised that Draco was watching also, his appearance once more forgotten by the room's inhabitants as Theo tottered around, singing praises to his 'moon'. Taking this moment to study the interloper, she realised he looked quite different from how she would have suspected. Naturally, she should have known that he would not look exactly the same as he always had – she herself had gone through drastic physical changes these past six years, what with one thing and the other, being a professional athlete and a barefoot pregnant woman both at the same time – but she was struck by how little a resemblance he now bore to his loathsome father. He was still pointy and pale, as he had always been, but his skin was blotched by almost invisible freckles and he'd grown bulkier. His hair was mid-length, darker than it had been and dishevelled by design. He looked less the aristocrat and more handsome foreigner, a good look on him – and then she stopped that line of thoughts in its tracks, reeling in shock.

Ginny was dragged out of her thoughts by the timely arrival of Bell, who in his usual abrupt and impatient manner ordered the guests through to the dining room for dinner. As she turned to follow her friends and family, however, she shot one more look at the newcomer and realised that he was watching her too.

It seemed that Harry had arrived in the time she had been musing over her friends' relationships, but he was seated between Ron and Luna, rather than at his usual spot beside her. That position was taken instead by Draco Malfoy whom had been shuffled there, rather unwillingly, by a determined Hermione with a stoic Severus backing her up. The Snapes were a formidable team, a fact to which Ginny could testify if someone asked, but nobody had, so she watched with an amused smile as Draco grumbled and grouched over to his seat. Hermione sat at the head of the table, with Severus to her left and Ginny to her right. Draco sat between her and George, opposite Theo, who was sandwiched between his odd wife, who he doted on liberally in his own quiet way, and Severus. Next to George sat Angelina, then Sarah, with three empty seats at the end of the table for whoever fancied popping in – which was a frequent occurrence, despite Severus raining his wrath upon the trespasser. Usually, it would be Bill and Fleur, but others such as Remus and Andromeda joined on occasion. Once, even Sirius had dropped by halfway through the meal, seating himself at the end of the table and flirting outrageously and loudly with Hermione as Severus looked on. Hermione had laughed it off, blushing lightly at the man's teasing smirk, but Severus had grown a horrific shade of purple to the point that by dessert the guests had been concerned he'd rage himself into a premature heart attack. Sirius had spent the week following trapped in his animagus form, and Severus had kept Hermione in his room for two days straight – an extremely territorial man, that one.

Ginny would much rather face the Lestrange brothers again than relive the night after that event that Hermione had turned up at her flat. "What do you want?" Ginny had asked, ungraciously, with James on one hip and a towel over her shoulder. It had been a long day, what with Harry coming to visit James and the ensuing argument over their joint collection of Quidditch memorabilia, which Harry wanted in the divorce. Her best friend had bustled into the room with a grin on her face and a sly light in her eyes. "So sorry," she had breezed, "but it's the first time I've been able to get out since Friday, and while I had nowhere to go it was too good an opportunity to waste!"

"He's keeping you prisoner now?" Ginny had demanded. She'd never been opposed to the relationship between her former professor and their resident bookworm, and she really did like Severus, but sometimes old habits died hard. Either way, she did get her comeuppance for assumption quite quickly, as Hermione replied; "Oh! No, not in that sense, I suppose. Only, he's been quite feisty since Sirius came to dinner, and I've not been able to leave the bed. Do you know, I could barely sit down yesterday – not that I particularly needed to, as he was quite persuasive in his insistence that I stay where I was. I'm rather sore, who knew a man his age could be so _energetic_?" How she misinterpreted Ginny's look of distress so wrong is a mystery, but somehow she did and carried on talking. The redhead refused to replay these words, however, as it had been hard enough to sleep that night and she had no desire to have nightmares this night also. She did recall with no small amount of horror Hermione prattling on about the man re-asserting his 'claim' on her in a myriad of ways, and waxing poetic about his very 'primal' actions and reactions.

When her friend had become so sexually adventurous, Ginny didn't know, but she felt she must blame Luna. Both of them had these quiet, grumpy husbands who seemed to dislike everyone else quite strongly, and yet they loved their wives with an intensity and devotion rarely seen outside of fiction. There was some bedroom secret she must be missing, though asking would probably cause more harm than good.

It occurred to Ginny that she spent far too much time contemplating the private lives of others, but since she had no sex life to speak of and none forthcoming she wouldn't beat herself up about it too much. Living vicariously through another was a time-honoured tradition, after all.

"…can't possibly, it makes no sense! Don't you think, Gin?"

Voices penetrated the haze in her mind, and she shook herself off. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," she grimaced.

"I believe she wanted to know your opinion on my father's trial, Weasley." Draco's voice was frustratingly amused, triggering an automatic scowl from her.

"My opinion? Are you certain?" Ginny blinked innocently, but the undercurrent of steel was enough of a warning to the wise. Severus laid his hand on Hermione's arm to stall her from responding, but Draco took up the reins immediately.

"Yes, Weaselette. Your _opinion._ Also known as your thoughts, estimations, beliefs on the matter. Surely even you can manage that?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, turned to meet the Ferret's gaze, and let rip.


End file.
